


The Bobby Before You

by RiseTheHorizon



Category: Bobby Burns - Fandom, Gay - Fandom, Shane Dawson - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-03-31 12:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13975350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiseTheHorizon/pseuds/RiseTheHorizon
Summary: *Co-created by vickiethedickie*Bobby Burns lives a normal, vagabond hipster life. However, this is all turned upside down when Bobby's former idol Shane Dawson invites Bobby, his girlfriend Jordanne and his brother Nathan to come visit in LA. If only Bobby and Shane knew just exactly what was awaiting them...





	1. Prologue by vickiethedickie

I was sitting comfortably in my vegan leather couch when it happened. Just editing some vídeo for a friend, nothing very important or urgent and then I received a message.

I looked at my clock: 3am -It’s really late, who would it be?- I thought to myself as I grabbed my phone to check it. It was a DM on twitter. From Shane Dawson. -What the actual fuck.- I said loudly, thinking that nobody would hear me. Turned out that, to my surprise, I wasn’t alone.

-What’s up?- I hear my brother ask me while entering the room uninvited.

-So... Shane Dawson just sent me a DM on twitter-

He stood quiet for a while in obvious confusion. -What the actual fuck- he said

-That was my reaction as well.-

-And what does it say?-

I opened the DM to check it. It read: “Hey, Shane Dawson here. The guy you made a hate video about. I wanted to meet you so I could ask you some things about that video you made talking about me in a really...unkind way. I will fly you to LA. You can bring a friend. Answer me before I change my mind.”

I read those words slowly to make sure I didn’t get anything wrong. And re-read it. Twice. Was that actually happening?

-Hey- I said to my brother.

-What- he looked in my direction as confused as me

-Punch me.

-In the face?

-Yes.

-Really? Ok... And he did.

Alright, this was definetely not a dream. But now I wish it was.

-OUCH!

-You asked for it. For real now, are we going? Wait, did he say “we”?

-“We”?

-He said you could bring a friend.

\- I have a girlFRIEND, you know. Pay for your own ticket.

-Thanks, asshole- he said, jokingly.

\- I would punch you if I hadn’t already. I will bring my girlFRIEND too. You won’t be the only one to “have fun” in LA, if you know what I mean.

-If you pay for her ticket, I don’t give a shit.

-Are you answering him or what?

-Oh, right.

I wrote a nice message to Shane thanking him for the invite and guarantee my presence. This could be fun, after all.


	2. Both frail, pale and much more than those - by RiseTheHorizon

Sun in my eyes, pants on my legs and the stench of Kevin Smith's jersey in my nose - I had returned to LA

Jordanne had those hipster glasses of hers down low, balanced on the kink of her nose. Should I tell her? Should I be a good boyfriend? Think Bobby, think, what would my main man Kendrick do? My pondering stopped as I reached up from behind and frazzled her hair.

"Ow, ow, OW! Fucking Jesus Bobby!" Jordanne yelled with an angry expression, frazzled hair and her glasses still on the kink of her nose.

"Love you babe." I responded, being the special type of cunt that I am.

"Guys, would ya' keep it down? Dupinder is going to crash." Nathan slipped in.

"JEREMY CORBYN PRIME MINISTER NUMBER ONE!!!" Christ Dupinder, calm down, I'm capping you at only two stars. (Sidenote to two certain Hollywood starlets named Jennifer and Scarlett: That is how you SUBTLY show your affinity to a certain political party.)

Beautiful homes and blinding bokeh danced behind my window; silhouettes of home, family and forgotten dreams all performing plies before my very eyes. I was rocking to and fro in the back of Dupinder's Camry, hoping beyond hope that Shane wasn't a cereal killer behind the scenes. Maybe he would go Lizzy Borden on my ass, I didn't know. He is perfectly fine with blackface, so why the shit wouldn't he be fine with dicing me up like a Chick-Fil-A sandwich? Guilt free hate sandwiches for all, especially if a gay guy is the one doing the dicing. Is Shane actually gay or am I getting confused with someone else? What other possibly gay washed up YouTubers could I be getting confused with? Did Scarce come out as gay, or was that just Keemstar having a bit of a goob?

Why was I hungry all of a sudden?

We made it. We actually made it to Shane Dawson's driveway, nothing had happened yet and I was already kinda' freaking out. I was blinking faster than the mitochondria returning to be the powerhouse of the cell. *BAZINGA!*

I could see a smirky smile poking from the corners of Jordanne's mouth. I could see Nathan, his big dopey blue filled me with confidence. Dupinder was once again rambling on and on about foreign politics or something, I don't know, I stopped listening to him ten minutes ago.

To you, the uninitiated audience, it may have appeared in those videos that I was overly confident of myself - No, that is not the Bobby before you. The shell of he whom dictates this very prose, both frail, pale and much more than those, wanders from one illusion of a failed self conceived yardstick to the next. The Bobby before you is a rejected lesbian mother, with countless too many YouTube channels to his name, who often retires to rap music as a way to escape into the mind of someone who actually succeeded in something. The Bobby before you is stranded upon an island of charcoal in a sea of sand, helpless, consumed by the failed expectations of his father and the constant withering support of his mother: A failure of film, fact and physical identity.

But enough negativity, I need to meet someone who makes terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible content.


	3. I was gonna kill him or something by vickiethedickie

I’m feeling extremely calm and relaxed for this situation. Is this even appropriate? Should I feel angry? I’m meeting someone I made a hate vídeo about, and I am fine. That’s kinda weird, but I guess I can live with this akward feeling. As I’m walking quickly towards the Shane Dawson’s door™ I take a short look at the window and I see a very strange image. Shane, who is wearing his ridiculous merch, is holding a fucking FRENCH KNIFE.

For some reason, I’m not surprise.

I laugh really hard and proceed to knock on his door. He opened the door relutantly. He looked absolutely terrified. I guess he thought I was gonna kill him or something.

“C’mom, Bobby, break the ice” I thought to myself.

-Hello! – I raised my hand and waved at him. He still looked very scared.

-...Hi!- he answered, a little too loud. I think he finally woke up from the shock state he was in.

We shook hands. He still looked scared, so I gave him a hug. I’m such a polite motherfucker.

-Oh, a hug- he said.

Now he wasn’t scared anymore, but very surprise. Even his hug felt incredulous. His hug. It was so good. His arms were around me and ,suddenly, I felt safe. I felt like something that had been missing for a long time was now complete. He hugged me back and I had no more worries at all. All the hate I expressed for this man had disppeared. It was almost like I had just fullfilled a wish.

-You smell good- Shane said to me. He did as well. He smelled like some flower I had definitly smelled before. I MUST remember. Oh, yeah. That one time I was in the park with Jordanne and we found this flower. ACONITE! It smells really similar to honey, tho. I gave his friend a hug too so I didn’t look rude, but Shane’s hug was really the best. Garret (I think that was his name) has been waving at me since I walked through that door.I recognized him from a youtube channel. I think he’s a youtuber too.

-Oh you DO smell good- Garret said. Thank god I took a shower before coming here.

-Thank you- I answered politely.- I mean, I took a shower.

-Oh, I don’t do that, so...

-COME ON IN!- Shane said loudly. Shane looked shook. His hands were covering his mouth the whole time. Watching his vídeos, I realized he did that A LOT. I walked to the living room.

Now this is when the entire meeting could go very bad OR very good. Guess I have to see it by myself.


	4. Accentuating myself with a silent laugh by RiseTheHorizon

11,383,400.  
11,383,401.  
11,383,402.  
I don't want to be alive anymore.

Shane has a beard. Shane has a nice beard. Shane's beard looks soft. I want to stroke it. I want to stroke Shane's soft beard. I want a beard. I don't want to look like a lesbian anymore. I want to look like a lumberjack. I want a warm jaw. I want to stroke my face. I want to stroke my lumberjackian face. Wait, how long have I just drifted out for? Is Nathan still outside? Do androids dream of electric sheep?

"Are you Chloe Grace Moretz? Because holy fuck." Shane asked, quite rightly so.

"Heh, I've been getting that since the very start of my YouTube channel." I responded, accentuating myself with a silent laugh, the kind of laugh that only happens upon a encountering a genuine surprise - The best kind.

"Oh my god. You're beautiful, you literally look like her."

"I get, I get Chloe Gra... meheh, I get Chloe Grace Moretz and I get Dane Dehaan."

"I don't know who that is because Chloe's queen."

"Chloe's queen."

"Oh, he is from the hit film Valerian." Woah, shit my dick off, Garrett coming in out of nowhere with that Luc Besson knowledge <<<dis bitch.

"ExaHEH, exactly." I responded, like a clapping moron in the audience of an Amy Schumer gig, ugh.

...Such a good beard, SNAP OUT OF IT BOBBY!

"So tell me what you think is so terrible and what you think I could improve."

"We-wuh, okay so we're immediately doing that, okay."

"Oh fuck, wait, hang on. Drama music." He snapped his fingers like Leshondra behind every reception desk. If you couldn't already tell; the inside of my mind is a menage of Tarantino-esque stereotypes and Boyle-esque ADHD... beard...

"Oh my god, I'm, I was not ready to immediately do that."

"I wasn't ready to watch that video."

"Well, okay let's see, hold on let's see... Um, fact checking. That's a good one."

"Fat checking?"

"Ooh, triggered." Garrett there, back at it again with the social commentary, dick.

"Oh fact?"

"Fact, yeah, F-A-C-T. Okay?"

"Okay, I'm fine with that."

"Lot, a lot of fact checking, mainly fact checking."

"Okay, but that is just my conspiracy videos."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah."

"So what about my other videos?"

"No, I, I don't have a problem with most, almost any of your other videos."

Shane leaned forward with his mug of what ever creamy hot stuff he likes down his throat. His strawberry cheesecake brow pointed sharp like the stare of an albatross.

"But you said my content was terrible."

"That, that specific content."

"You said all my content."

"I didn't say all."

"Yeah."

"No I didn't."

"Yeah, you did."

Is Nathan just going to stay out there? It's winter, what is he doing? Where is my aconite girl?

Oh god, I zoned out again.

"I fucking love you."

Shit.


	5. I'm actually afraid at this point by vickiethedickie

Oh, god. What were we talking about again? Why did he say he loved me? Did he mean it? What is even going on right now?? I laugh because most probably it was a joke. I wish it wasn’t. Wait, what did I just think? MIND, STOP PLAYING STUPID TRICKS WITH ME, HOLY FUCK. I still can’t figure out what we are talking about, but Shane keeps talking so I have a chance jump into the conversation again.

-Ok, so here is my plan for today- Shane regained my attention while adjusting his stupid merch in his body. I’m actually afraid at this point.

-We’re gonna talk more about our beef, but then after that I thought like...Listen: We can handle hate, we are used to it.- Shane proceeds. Wait, we have a “beef”? Jeez, I didn’t know I was so important in this guy’s life.

-He is gay, he is gay- Shane points at Garret and his boyfriend (is he his boyfriend or spouse? I have no idea)

\- I used to be fat, I’m half gay, we’ve all got it. But my mom is triggered. So I was thinking: later we would go to my mom’s house, show her the vídeo and then you knock on the door and she’s gonna confront you.-

This is the most bADASS THINGS I COULD EVER DO IN MY WHOLE LIFE! WHEN WOULD I FIND A CHANCE LIKE THIS ONE AGAIN? I could tell my future hypothetical children. “Hey, you dumbasses, come here, daddy’s gonna tell you a story: Once I made a roast vídeo about this guy and not only he watched it, but he invited me to his house and I had a fight with his mom. I know, daddy is pretty cool, am I right?”

Shane put both of his hands in his chin. He looked really excited.

-That sounds fucking amazing.- I answered him. He started wickedly laughing, satisfied by the a idea of me possibly getting hurt.

-Like, that actually sounds incredible.-

You’re welcome- Dawson answered in a singing voice. It was so bad that I started laughing louder than I should

-So here’s what I’m thinking: I think we should really seriously talk about our beef in my conspiracy room.

I was shocked (or should I say “shook”). A lot of things going through my mind right now. I’m going to his pathetic “conspiracy” room. Alone. With. Him. I SHOULDN’T BE THAT EXCITED. CUT IT OFF, BRAIN. HE HAS A BOYFRIEND AND I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND.

So why this idea gave me a huge boner...?


	6. Chipotle guzzling cunt by RiseTheHorizon

We're alone. No one else. No distractions. No guy wielding a camera working for scale.

Me, Shane and my newfound sexual deviancy.

"So, yeah, this is my conspiracy room. You know, that place where I make my terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible conspiracy videos." Shane uttered, pivoting with his arm out to show each and every corner.

"It's nice, my conspiracy room isn't anywhere near as nice as this." I responded, my shoulders hunched and my knees inward like an introverted schoolgirl in an anime.

"You have a conspiracy room?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

"Well, it's actually a place where Jordanne can eat Chipotle without me knowing."

"He-ha! Why? What's wrong with Chipotle?"

"No, like, no, nothing is wrong with Chipotle, I like Chipotle, I just think that three times a week is enough."

"Oh, okay. Fuck, I haven't had Chipotle in a while. What do you get there?"

"What do I get there?"

"Yeah."

"Erm... Burrito, pinto, guac. Veggie filling."

"Wuh, wait, are you vegan?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Ugh, now I REEEEALY don't like you."

"Why, what's wrong with being a vegan?"

"Excuse me, but have you seen my merch?"

"I have, I can see it quite clear right in front of me."

"Touch it."

"What?"

"Touch it, Bobby."

"Wuh-what? What?"

"Touch my shirt, Bobby."

"I don't want to."

"Just touch my shirt, Bobby."

"Sorry, I don't want to."

"Just touch my fucking shirt, Bobby."

"I really, do not want to."

"Just fucking touch my fucking shirt, Bobby."

"Shane, I really don't want to touch your shirt."

"Bobby, touch my fucking shirt you fuck!"

"Shane, come on, I'm really uncomfortable."

"I don't fucking care if you're uncomfortable, Bobby; I want to be next to you while your rock hard cock rubs into my belly button while you daydream about the cunt of your Chipotle guzzling girlfriend!" Whoomp, there it is! Whoomp, there it is!

A seemingly infinite silence fell between the both of us. Shane - A deer in the headlights, utterly consumed by regret. Yours truly - A still and stoic individual swamped by goosebumps, controlled by a newfound lust.

The Bobby Before You straddles the line of the infinite unknown and the warmly familiar as a slump of a 20 year old who twitches both in judgement and in blink. Waves upon waves of indecisive urge drowned thoughts inside of my head like fallen seagulls in the icy atlantic. Hands shudder in relaxed Fibonacci circles, ideas don't seem to make sense, or lead to any place that might make sense. Weak, strengthened. Slow, erratic. Confused, clear.

A kiss.

As it turns out, Shane is just a little bit taller than me, so in fact his cock was rubbing into my Chipotle guzzling cunt.


	7. It's really hard to concentrate by vickiethedickie

I was feeling it. I was finally feeling it. I was feeling Shane Dawson’s cock™ touching my body.

It felt amazing.

It felt like a million butterflies were kissing my belly button. His kiss was absolutely everything. His lips were soft but his kiss was so violent. It tasted like some sort of berry. This is as addictive as it can get. I can do this all day long. We don’t even gotta go further. This is the best feeling I’ve ever experienced in my whole life. But, suddenly, a not so pleasant thought carefully paced into my mind. Jordanne Leigh. That incredible motherfucker. She has been really good to me so far. She is beautiful. She is a really nice girlfriend. I love her. I can’t do that to her. ...Or can I?

Reluctantly, I stop that wonderful kiss to talk to him.

-Shane...?– I pull my mouth away from his. His lips are less than 5 centimetres from my face. It’s really hard to concentrate.

-Yes?- He provocatively looked at me.

Suddenly, I felt what seemed like every litre of blood in my body had gone to my penis. I had never (and I MEAN IT) in my whole life had a boner like that one. And I was a horny-ass teenager. I didn’t think a dick could get as hard as mine was in that moment. Fuck Jordanne. Fuck commitment. I can love her tomorrow. And everyday after tomorrow. But, right now, I’m too thirsty for his body. I want him. I want his dick. And it just can’t wait any longer.

-Nevermind.- I tell him while kissing him again, more passionately and more violent than the first time. I move my head a little bit towards him to make it hotter.

He starts touching my junk and realises that I’m as hard as a rock. He starts making grabbing movements. I stop kissing and moan loudly.

-Looks like daddy is excited to see me. – He said, while looking at me in the eyes. I couldn’t want him more than I want him in that moment. Although this is feeling super good, I can’t help feeling nervous. I don’t wanna mess up anything. I want him to have a good time as well. I don’t wanna be a selfish bitch. “BOBBY, DO SOMETHING!!” I angrily said to myself. I’d better follow my own commands. I touch his junk as well. Wow. Looks like he is as hard as me. But that’s not all. He has a huge, enormous, large, great, immense, massive cock.

His cock is as big as his content is terrible.

-Shane, you gotta promise something.

-What?

-Don’t tell my girlfriend.


	8. A tale of youthful lust by RiseTheHorizon

My arms, legs, hands, fingers, eyes, hair and everything else flailed with gay abandon - Quite literally in this case.

There is texture through the movements of our elations. Cloth couch upon my speared shoulder pads feels so much more sensational when you have someone clawing at your chest and prancing lip to lip in some ethereal dance which you don't quite know the steps.

We shouldn't do this. We shouldn't do this. We shouldn't do this. Try and stop me.

My left hand traversed the charcoal mines of merchandise and beneath the derelict denim to discover the purple maggot stood tall in a field of satsumas. He felt that, I don't know how he couldn't have, his eyes told a story of fear and lust.

"Oh... my fuck Bobby. Bobby, what are we doing?" Shane pleaded, my frantic-ism seeming to stun him.

"I... I, I think that I need this." I responded between exhales and exasperation.

"I have a boyfriend. I can't do this."

"Who said that fucking had anything to do with being with the one that you love?" _(Hi there, my name is Kayven Kaplan, the co-author of what you are currently reading. As I am well aware of all the 13 year old female readers who are reading this, please use the last line of dialogue as the banner for your Mylol profiles so that I know exactly who I can masturbate over and get away with it. Now, back to your favourite social media influencers fucking.)_

He was throbbing, pulse after pulse of nervous adrenaline. Although his shaking hands told a tale of fear, his blue eyes so wide that you could swim in them told a tale of youthful lust.

"The Bobby before you is a 20 year old bag of bones forming the illusion of self control, I wander through life numb to the sensation of pretty much everything, everything apart from right now. Right now, I am more goosebump than bone, hyper sensitive to every touch and grasp and wiggle. It is here where I feel the most extraordinary things, things made all the more extraordinary as I am here, with you." The world seemed to stop turning when I uttered those words.

"Bobby... you're talking like a new man." Shane responded, his lips twitching in bewilderment.

We wrangled and rutted like farm animals, both of us now clutching and stroking one and other's cocks like scared children on a roller-coaster ride that neither of us wanted to get off. We moaned into one and other's necks, delightful arousal now painting our faces pink and red, Shane slipped out some words which couldn't have made me feel any more sensual...

"I want you inside of me."


	9. Rule the world together by vickiethedickie

I do not think I am able to take it anymore. At this point, I think I may cum simply by looking at his horny face. Shane Dawson is so terribly sexy. He has the ability to leave me speechless, and I do not have any idea of how he does that.

Shane takes his soft hands out of my trembling waist and starts pulling my sweater up and off of my body, revealing my sort of apparent six pack (those babies took YEARS honey). He started at it for a second. Okay, maybe more. He looks completely delighted. Lustful, I would say.

-What’ya looking at? –I politely asked, as a sweet gentleman.

-My man doesn’t have these – he points at my kinda good abs with fascination. Are they that big of a deal or does he just want my massive cock? Well, guess I’ll never know. And I don’t want to either.

He puts his tender lips on my abs and starts giving me gentle kisses all over that place. I moan loudly, with pleasure. Shane seems to enjoy it like a child enjoys Jake Paul’s channel. He places his sweet lips in my zipper. To my absolute surprise. Shane bites it and starts pulling it down, very slowly. Somehow, he manages to unbutton it without using his hands.

This bitch’s FREAKY.

I want his mouth in my cock so bad I can’t even put it into words. Still, he wants to tease me even more. He doesn’t take my pants off. He just stares at my obviously hard cock through my underwear. I AIN’T GOT TIME FOR YOUR GAMES BITCH JUST SUCK MY DICK IS IT THAT HARD. _(Hi, I’m Vicky, the other writer. Just wanna say that im absolutely DISGUSTED by my partner statement about the teen stuff holy shit he’s such a creep Also, Jordanne, please don’t be offended I love you so much I hope you and Bobby get married, have kids and rule the world together. BACK TO THE STORY)_

-Shane, please, I want you- I said, teasing him. TWO CAN PLAY THIS GAME.

He looks satisfied. Shane starts taking my pants off, and, to my surprise, he takes my underwear off too. I guess he is done playing games. Now, I can take a look to see how hard my sausage is and GOD DAMMIT I don’t think I could ever get more turned on.

\- I want your hard dick in my mouth. – he said, as gently he placed his hands in my dick. Remember when I said I couldn’t get more turned on?

So, I guess I lied.


	10. Never ending ethereal nonsense by RiseTheHorizon

Bob - Bob - Bob went Shane's head, upon my head, not the head a top my neck mind you. It was like a rotisserie chicken inside an oven, inside a furnace, inside a volcano, inside a man with a beard's mouth.

I WANT A BEARD SO MUCH, OH MY FUCK.

This is happening. This is actually happening.

Oh, how is he so good at this, he is swirling my cock head like it was spaghetti. Words escape me, only moans, low and guttural moans.

"Ugh."

"Ugh."

"Ugh-ah."

"Ugh."

"Ugh."

"Ugh." It goes on and on and on and up, wait, HOLY FUCK. Waves. Waves. Waves of euphoria. Never ending ethereal nonsense. Upon the sensation of the sensual, engrossing emotions created rainbow spectral fireworks inside my head, all of which forming a giant smile from ear to ear.

I came in case you hadn't notice, I came. It is white, it is warm, it is the greatest liquid known to man. Better than blood, better than bovril, cum is the head honcho. A lot of it was erupting, a lot, like holy shit that right there is a lot of fucking cum. Cum which was probably derived from fucking. Dearest viewers, you won't believe me when I say this but try to trust me, you'll probably find it as kinky as me. Have you ever seen someone drink something, then laugh as they are drinking, so whatever they are drinking shoots out of their nose? Yeah. That. Welcome to Rule 34, there is no god.

My white slurped strings hung from his nose like clackers in a child's hand. I did not know what to do or how to react, thankfully, Shane took it all from here.

"I want your face pointed down into the leather, true sluts can keep their asshole open without their hands."

Shane demanded, his voice wonderfully stifled with copious nasal blockage. I don't want this to end, only deepen, deepen so deep.


	11. Man, consent is so hot by vickiethedickie

I SHALL PROVE SHANE DAWSON THAT I’M A TRUE SLUT.

I tried to figure out what exactly he wants me to do, which I failed at, so I just put my elbows in the couch and bend over, hoping that was what he meant. Whether it was what he wanted or not I couldn’t figure out (because of my position I couldn’t see his face and that was kinda bad). I bent over and waited a while. After 30 seconds of not feeling his dick up my butt, I turn around to make sure that he isn’t with his camera filming my asshole.

-Uh... Shane? – I tried to ask politely I see the most unexpected vision. Shane was there just staring deeply into my ass.

-You’ve got a beautiful butt. How the hell should I respond to this?

-Ha, thank you- I say very shyly and starting to blush

-I’m gonna put it in, are you okay with this? – He asked me kindly. MAN, CONSENT IS SO HOT.

I decide to heat things up a bit.

-Yes, daddy, please! – I moan loudly as my dick is getting erected again. I was ready for another round.

-That’s my naughty whore.- I can hear his grin. I feel his tongue licking my ass and oh god. This feels so good. I want more of this. His soft hand grabbed my cheeks and spread it open. Suddenly, he stops.

No!

That’s not fair. I want him to keep going. I would beg for him to continue doing this. And that’s what I’ll do.

-Shane, please, keep doing it. – I cry/moan so I can get what I want. God, I sound like a spoiled rich kid. Wait, maybe I shouldn’t use a kid’s analogy given the context.

-Okay, babe. His wet lips and tongue are now in a intense make out session with my butt. He sucks the entry of my butthole like his life depends on it.

-Ugh..hm- I moan to show him that I like it.

\- Do you like this? – He asks me so sweetly that I almost forget that a second ago he was sucking my ass.

-Yes, keep doing it, please. He slid his wet tongue into my butt. He puts it in and out slowly. I bite my lower lip in lust as he licks it. Well, I can’t take it much longer.

-Shane, can you put it in? – I can barely control my breath to speak this words.

-Of course.- He said like he’s been waiting for it for a long time. I feel the tip of his cock getting inside my bussy. I forgot how thicc his dick was. I moan, partly of pleasure, partly of pain.

-Put it slowly, please.- I try to sound sexy but end up sounding in deep pain.

-As you wish. I feel his hard cock head getting in and out of my wet butt. I start moaning again, this time, out of pure pleasure. The pain had completely disappeared. I just wanted the rest of his dick inside me.

-Put it all in.

-Are you sure?

-Yes. He slowly puts the whole extension of his dick inside me. I feel every inch of his cock tingle the inner part of my ass. And it feels so damn good.

-Ooh yeah keep doing it. He keeps making it slowly to tease me. I’m done with this games. I want it all.

-Faster- I moan. He starts throbbing my ass with increasing velocity. His large sausage is everything my butthole ever needed. I start moving my waist back and forth to make it more interesting.

-Hm keep doing it, Bobby. He is doing it at full speed now. I moan louder and louder as I see he is about to cum. I move my waist faster as I realise I might cum too. Again. Suddenly, he stops. WHAT THE FUCK MAN I WAS ABOUT TO CUM. He takes his dick off of me and turns me around, just so he could look at my face. I sit in my heels so I could look submissive. He places his thumb and his index finger in my chin and whispers:

\- I want you to suck me like you needed it to survive. I want you to eat my cock as if it was your last meal. Then, I want you to swallow my cum like it was the first drops of water you found in the desert.

He looks so hot when he begs for me.


	12. Replicate the beauty of the real world by RiseTheHorizon

Waves crashing upon distant shores of time.

The sensations slowed, forever kept seeming further and further away. Lips, fingers and that increasingly expanding part inside of my head that made sense of everything; none of it was working! No return, suck that cock Bobby. Your father was a pastor, if he was watching this right now, he probably would be cheering with a fucked up smile on his face. Cock, or at the very least Shane's cock, tastes acidic - Not a revolting acidic, that kind of odd and unusual taste of milk that is one day past it's date. You know what I mean, right? I am making sense of this all, yeah?

Believe me, it is rather difficult for yours truly to tell this story. I was, and I still consider myself to be, a straight man - Yet here I was; waggling my tongue on the head of an uncut cock.

I have no idea of how to tell this story in a way which is erotically stimulating or emotionally resonant, these are events of surprise and sensation, ones that only occur in the life as we are living.

As storytellers, it is us who try with head and heart to replicate the beauty of the real world, regardless of how many homosexual flutterances the real world may throw at me.

Shane moaned between staggered breath, our movements seeming to combine, sexual ecstasy pulsing through both of our veins. Bliss. The further I went along Shane's caucasion EXCITEMENT, the acidity went away. More milk, more milk. He ran his fingers through my hair, a little bit too tight for comfort but I let him do his thing, I could tell that he was enjoying himself. I let my cheeks take some of the texture for a moment, allowing me to change my focus from the mound of red hair beside Shane's cock to the mound of red hair around Shane's mouth.

I --- JUST --- WANT --- A --- BEARD --- OH MY GOD I JUST WANT A BEARD SO MUCH FUCK FUCK FUCK. Suck. Suck. Suck. I went on and on, not wanting the sensations to speed up.

You reading this, do you know that what comes next gets really wild? Really, really extraordinary and really, really arousing?

Keep reading, find out if I'm spouting bullshit or not.


	13. He is full of terrible ideas by vickiethedickie

Of course I wasn’t spouting bullshit, you sick bastards.

Who the fuck would read a story about two people fucking anyways? You definitely should get laid more often. Anyhow, where did I stop? Oh yeah, I was sucking his dick.

I keep sucking him slowly, to tease him even more. I’ve come to realisation that I’m such a mean bitch. I make back and forth movements with my lips, and he does the exact opposite with his hips.

WAIT.

OH SHIT MY GIRLFRIEND AND MY BROTHER ARE STILL OUTSIDE. IN THE COLD.

I’m not going to stop sucking dick just to check their well being. I wonder if they are okay.

_*A few minutes before, still in Shane Dawson’s house™ *_

Why the hell my brother agreed on doing this? Now, standing outside Shane Dawson’s house™, this looks like a terrible idea. He is full of terrible ideas, I’m sure he may be doing something he will regret as we speak. Fuck it. I will look for him.

-JORDANNE!

-what

-I WILL LOOK FOR MY BROTHER OK STAY SAFE

\- why are you yelling im right by your side

-OH I’M SORRY

-...just go.

-OK BYE So here I go. I take a last look at her. You know, in case I die. Should I do it by the legal or the illegal way? “Do the right thing, Nathan”- the angel me in my right shoulder advises me. “Nah, the legal one isn’t as fun.” –the devil me answers him after I can. I guess he’s right. It’s not like I’m breaking into his home. I’m just going to...watch people without their consent. Wow this sounded horrible. But A MAN GOTTA DO WHATTA MAN GOTTA DO.

I use my ninja abilities to sneak right next to the main window of the house. I take a quick look inside. I see three man talking and the face of Bobby in the TV, but I can’t seem to find the actual him anywhere. Where the fuck did this bastard go? This time, I use my spy abilities (ninja ≠ spy) to sneak to the next window and oh wow What the fuck Is that my brother and Shane making out? ... What is even GOING ON ANYMORE Shane touches Bobby’s junk. oh wow ok things are moving too fast can i take time to process this While my brain hasn’t figured out what to think yet, looks like my dick has. In matter of seconds, my dick gets HUGE and HARD before I can even do anything to stop it. Holy shit, he’s my brother. What are you doing, dick? My dick doesn’t answer. But is still huge and hard. Oh well.

As would the modern poet group “Smash Mouth” would say: “The water is getting warm, so you might as well swim.”


	14. The constrictions of incestuous guilt by RiseTheHorizon

Strings of bleached coconut, with extra helpings of nut fashioned a glorious tapestry, one that will only be properly told by virgins on the internet. Cheeks of rouge doused by satin of white, our souls hadn't yet untwisted themselves from the glory of merely being with someone.

**_ ♫All the glory that the Lord has made - and the complications when I see his face - in the morning in the window♫ _ **

His face is shocked, I couldn't tell if he was shocked to see his lil' big brother adorned in what his godly upbringing taught him to quell away, or if he was actually shocked to discover how those Hanes boxers felt when a fully erect cock was inside of them. I couldn't see him then, it was only until after these glorious shambles had transpired that I discovered the grand extent to what had fully happened. I didn't feel the constrictions of incestuous guilt, not now anyway, just wait until after we're done. You won't believe what shenanigans we get up to with Garret, Ryland and who could forget Dupinder?

TOP SIXTEEN CHAPTERS WHY INFLUENCER BOBBY BURNS IS TOTS A FAG, NUMBER SEVEN WILL SURPRISE YOU.

"Oh, fucking Jesus, another fucking stalker." Shane yelped, quickly being yanked back into reality, colour draining from his face like colour draining from the White House just after Obama left.(Obligatory Trump joke... check.)

I was still blinded by glorious aim and squirt, heat seeped out of me like the infectious smile of your first grade teacher. He hastily scrambled for his shirt and jeans, an arm in one and a leg in the other, he was a glorious vision of what a modern metrosexual man could be, complete with a fan fucking tastic beard! My movements were slower compared to his, naturally, he has probably had his cock in more boii pussy than I ever will.

How profound.

"That was, like, fun." I blurted out of the blue, completely blank as my head was still trying to process Shane wanting to do a collab video in the first place.

"Listen to me Bobby, listen to me very close. This never happened. We will go out of this room with no one knowing any wiser than what they knew an hour ago. We didn't do anything, understand?" Shane spoke deep into my eyes, his growl deepening to show a different side of him, a side that could keep the silence of many stronger men than myself.

 


	15. I don't really care about anything else by vickiethedickie

I think I can divide my life in two moments now: Before Banging Shane and After Banging Shane.

The first one was pretty boring, I must admit. It hurts me deeply inside the fact I will never be able to tell anyone about this life changing experience, even though, at the same time, I hope no one ever finds out about it. “I fucked Shane Dawson” I mutter to myself while looking for my underwear. It has a bad habit of disappearing in the worst possible moments, like when I’m looking for it. “You shouldn’t have taken it off in such a rush, horny piece of shit.” I look at Shane to ask him about it. Turns out that bitch was biting my underwear in a slutty position.

“Hey, give me that!” I said, bursting out in laughter.

“You’ll have to come get it” He said with his mouth full of underwear. Guess I’ll have to play along. I begin crawling in his direction only to stay a few inches away from his face and biting my underwear off his mouth. He expresses a naughty happiness as I walk away from him, showing off the ass that his tongue once tasted. Properly dressed now (including underwear), we are profoundly staring at each other. There are so many words left unsaid, so many thing left undone, so many feelings we are trying to express, but failing miserably. We stay in this position for about 2 minutes before I say anything.

“Shane” - I try to begin the conversation.

“What?” He answers, looking relieved.

“What will happen to us now?” This is my only concern at this moment. I don’t really care about anything else.

“What do you mean?”

“Should we pretend to each other that it never happened? Is that what you meant?”

“I don’t think so. Not to each other, but for the others.” We both stay in silece for a while, as I wait for him to find the words he is looking for. “We had a great time together, Bobby. At least I did. We can behave normally without pretending” I realize he is completely right. We stand up and move towards the door.

“Can I give you a last kiss?” I ask him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask that” We kiss. Now, not a horny kiss, but a loving, caring kiss. I move away, trying not to think that I will never feel the taste of his lips again.

“Goodbye, Shane.”

“Goodbye, Bobby.”


	16. Epilogue by RiseTheHorizon

Forward is all, forward is good, farewell to the past instances of my own identity. Upon the days where my hair vanishes from the top of my head and the bags under my eyes turn to crumpled trugs (go ahead, look it up, it is a really good metaphor) it is there this frantic life of mine won't seem so jarring. This nonsense will make sense one day. I would much rather smile at a delightful blur than frown in response to a clear slump, bring on change and strife, for it is with stagnancy and conformation that dulls the life.

Who wants to remember every day? Every single day?

There is no point in being unique when you can compare one noteworthy day to the dozens prior. When I'm fifty seven and having to crash on the couch at four in the morning because I can't handle my indigestion, I don't want to be there comparing the time I went skydiving to the time I went paint-balling on the day before Sawyer's third wedding - Skydiving was good but the boots that they gave me were too tight, mind you when we went paintballing there was that one guy in the Camry who cut us up on the 405, that got a honk and a flash out of Sawyer, damn. He doesn't usually get that mad behind the wheel, I think that he had a beard that day, I want a beard.

These tiny niggles aren't what makes life worth living, a painting is judged upon the broad strokes, not the tiny dibs and dabs that separate the first from the facsimile. Hell is to remember every single day with total clarity, not just those moments that you want to remember. There are moments within my irrelevant existance which I want to remember - The birthday of whatever year it was when my dad gave me a shitty Mini DV camcorder, freedom in cinematic form, oh how a younger version of myself was ecstatic of the potential and the possibilities - Those weeks out in the woods with all the people I later knew as my friends making a movie for the sake of making a movie never to see the light of day. Naive technical skills were quickly dusted off with a can-do attitude that created footage that looked like Robert Richardson vomited backlit-barf onto an Adobe After Effects project - Aconite flowers placed crown along the Jordanne's ears, for a brief moment those beautiful spectral green eyes shone upon the purple back up act. I didn't have to deal with pollen that day, or anything else that may have inhibited me in some way. The park seemed to shine a little bit brighter than usual and sound a little bit sharper than usual, we've been through that park many times after that day, or at least I think we have because I don't want to do anything to get that vision of her out of my head. I can't for the life of me remember how we got to the park that day. I can't remember what we ate for dinner that day. I can't remember the fight that we inevitably got ourselves into because I am nowhere near as literary fluent as this story were to let on.

The Bobby Before You is not the Bobby that you know, yet rather the Bobby of hope and desire. I don't talk like this in real life, you could probably tell already, this version of me is merely a fantacised possibility of what could be. These words are not the words of a Nashville raised vagabond, I am half expecting to turn into someone like Limmy because "My name is Jacqueline MacCafferty, I lost three years of my life to heroin and another five years of my life trying to get off it." Who was that? I don't know. I don't know much about myself, hence my curiosity and total switch in sexual desire in the story that I just told you.

It happened, whoop-de-doo!

The Bobby Before You, the title which I keep referring to with capitalized words for an empasis you probably already caught on to. The truth in the matter is that the version of Bobby which you see is the Bobby that I can't forcibly change, I'm stuck with myself. I can't help thinking that my small stature and long hair make me look like a reject from a female lead indie band. I can't help feeling the waves upon waves of reverent gloom moments after putting out anything of any importance. I can't help but drown in the swirling potion of all the bullshit that a man should be; I can't yell like a grizzly bear, nor can I drag a downed tree from a country road, nor can I keep everything inside me numb as I am supposed to and I can't fucking stand it. I am stuck with me, although some people would consider all that to be normal, so I think that I am doing okay. I don't ask for much from life, just for the blood to keep circulating, the air to keep pumping and for some good memories by the time I am done with it all.

The strewn smoke of a dozen candles atop a birthday cake - Surrounded my companions, not wanting to be anywhere else - In the park with the vision of the one thing in all of nature that I couldn't do without. I am temporarily peaceful with the visions of a life, the visions of The Bobby Before You, visions that I wouldn't trade for any other.


End file.
